Joker, Queen, Knight
by Mau Caleb
Summary: Love is a terrible reason to betray a person. Directly after the setting of Dark Knight, Tranquil and Bruce talk over her traumatic past and why she knows him oh so well. OC x Bruce Wayne
1. Introduction

The news was blaring through every radio, on every television, on the lips of every person; Harvey Dent was dead and the Joker was in custody. On the street a woman stopped to watch the memorial service on the screen of a shop's TV. The woman was twenty-two. Her hair was long and dark and curly and her mouth was a little pouty. She had glasses, freckles, and the look a person gets when they have perhaps a little too much money.

A Lamborghini pulled up next to her and the suicide door opened for her to get in. Bruce Wayne flashed her a smile. People began to stop and stare as they recognized the playboy multi-billionaire. He motioned for her to get in the car. She reluctantly obliged.

"What's wrong, Darling? Change your mind?" Bruce gave her a seductive side glance and roared through a yellow light. His right hand trailed to her knee.

"Something like that," she mumbled, still looking out the window. She pushed his hand off of her knee and really looked at him. He was hiding behind this fake mask. On the surface he came off as a little sleazy, a little horny, a little mysterious, but underneath he was still mourning and nothing could hide it from her. He truly was a Byronic hero. "You don't really want me. Why pretend?"

Bruce pressed his lips together and the speedometer pushed past forty, fifty, sixty. The woman looked back out the window and pulled her dress down over her knees.

"I do want you, we just haven't had time to-"

"You want what you can never have. She's gone."

Seventy, eighty – and then a police car's siren. Fifty, forty, thirty.

"What can I do for you, officer?"

"Mr. Wayne, you were speeding. This road is forty miles-per-hour. We clocked you at eighty-three."

"I do beg your pardon. My lovely companion was distracting me." Bruce looked over at her and she smiled coyly at the officer.

"I understand, but I'm still going to have to write you up."

"Very well, very well."

"May I have your driver's license? Thank you. I'll be right back, sir."

"Quill, thank you," Bruce said. Their eyes met and his mask slipped off for a moment.

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne. You know what to do with this," the officer said as he handed Wayne a ticket. "Drive safe, now."

"I will, Sir, thank you." Bruce rolled up his window and they took off at a lethargic forty miles-per-hour. They pulled up to his penthouse. "Hello, Alfred. Sorry for being late. I got pulled over."

"Another speeding ticket, Mr. Wayne? Tsk tsk. Good afternoon, Ms. Tranquil. You look lovely today."

"You, too, Alfred. I love that tie." The woman planted a kiss on Alfred's cheek and the three went inside.

"Will you be needing anything else, Mr. Wayne?"

"No thank you, Alfred. I'll ring if I need you."

"Very good, sir."

The woman stood on Bruce's bed, looking out at the city. He climbed up next to her. She was looking toward the memorial service which was still going on. He felt a pang of guilt.

"Let's sit down and talk, hm?" Bruce ushered her toward his dining table. She hopped off of the bed and adjusted her glasses. She sat down opposite Wayne and locked eyes with him. "I would like for you to move in with me."

"Are you going to speak seriously to me or not? Because I know you are still in mourning. It was only a few weeks ago. Please don't take me for such a fool, Bruce."

"But that's the point, Quill, darling, you aren't a fool. You aren't dumb. You don't love me for my money. You want to be with me because of who I am and I want you to be closer to me. You're fantastic in bed and I-"

"You party all night and fool around all day. You are a womanizer and the only woman you've ever loved is Rachel Dawes. I am your toy right now. If you want to have sex let's not play around, but know that I know you for what you really are."

"We don't have to have sex."

"Let me tell you a story. This is why I know you're lying about loving me. This is why I'm colder than all the women you typically seduce..."


	2. A Short Tale

"Let me tell you a story. This is why I know you're lying about loving me. This is why I'm colder than all the women you typically seduce.

I was eighteen. I'd just been accepted to Gotham University and I'd moved into a relatively good neighborhood. It was dark and I was a little bit lost. I turned down a dark alley and was met by a man…"

The man was taller than Tranquil. He was cloaked in shadow but something about his posture came off as friendly. Because of this, Tranquil did not turn and run in the opposite direction; there would have been a split second for her to do so. She did not feel the ominous presence that he hid. He grabbed her and pulled her toward him, placing a fuming cloth over her mouth. She passed out.

When she awoke she was in a warehouse if the height of the ceiling was anything to go by. The area she was walled off in was only about seven feet by seven feet, though, and there was no exit.

"Hello?" she called. Her voice echoed off of the ceiling and about the warehouse. Suddenly, there was laughter and a horrible chill went down her spine. A door in one of the walls opened and a clown, the man from before, came in. He had horrible scars tracing up his cheeks like a grotesque smile. Insanity danced in his eyes.

"Why hello hello my darling new _toy_." He came up to her and stroked her clean cheeks with his gloved hands. She recoiled.

"What do you want? I've done nothing to you."

"What do I want? What do I want? Hm…I want to have some fun."

"Who are you?"

"Questions questions. I'm the Joker of course. Who might you be?"

"Tranquil Olive."

The Joker went off in a spiel of laughter. He didn't recover for a whole minute. Then, he came at her again. He pinched her cheeks between his sticky gloved fingers and leaned in close. He licked his lips and stared into her eyes.

"I like your face. If only we were all perfect like you." Quill noted a scent on his breath. It was a horrible combination of things that she strained to place. "I bet your whole life is ordered. There's not a drop of chaos in your whole body." The first scent was peppermint. "I'm going to have to put a little anarchy in you." There was a hint of cherry or strawberry. "I should have grabbed my knives. Do you want to know how I got these scars?" The last one was metallic. "Are you even listening to me?" Blood. He let go of her face and she gasped. There was blood on his breath.

"I was listening."

"I'll be back," he mumbled as he left

Tranquil curled up on the mattress in her room. No one would be able to save her from this madman. He had no morals. He could act. He was strong; she had felt him hold her whole body in place with just one hand. All of these things she had gotten from his touch. And he had blood on his breath.

When he returned he was wearing no makeup, no shirt and a pair of white slacks. He was calm and the effect rubbed off on the girl. She stopped shaking but did not move from her mattress. Her eyes went to his face, but he was impossible to read. Then, his face shifted and she saw the intent in his eyes.

"Take off your clothes," he said. Only he didn't say it out loud. He licked his lips. He rolled his head from side to side and crouched down across from her. There was something quite irresistible about the creature before her, yet she felt the ominous chaos lurking below the surface. "Take off your clothes or I will." He cracked his fingers. She did not move and he lurked forward. His hand slithered forth and pulled at her sweater. She shrunk back and the Joker began to shush her.

"Now, now, my toy, my darling, I am an agent of anarchy. I'm here to help you." He grabbed her and the chaos was all the more deeply apparent. "I don't want to kill you," he said. She was surprised to find that he was not lying. "I simply want to make you stranger." He pulled her sweater off and sighed. "Such lovely lovely skin." His fingers danced across her and she could not help but focus on the blood still on his breath. The Joker pulled her stockings off and ran his fingers up her legs. He stopped at her knees and his hand went to his pocket. "Just….just a little bit…" he laughed and flicked open a knife. He traced a little star into her knee and she fought off the urge to scream. "Sorry. I couldn't help myself. Stars just make me _smile_." He shrugged. The girl stared at him through watery eyes. Her lips quivered but she didn't cry out. "Hello? Anyone in there?" The Joker knocked on her head.

"I'm sorry, Sir. What would you like me to say?"

"Sir? _Sir_?! Oh, hee hee, your life really is _boring._ Let's get this going, shall we?"

"I won't resist."

"Whatever do you mean? I was just going to ask you if you thought I was handsome." The Joker ran a hand through his hair. Quill shivered and was repulsed by the fact that she was attracted to the action. She was, however, not attracted to the man.

"I-I don't understand-"

"Put this on." The Joker threw her an outfit. "I want to match."

For some time Tranquil was silent. In retrospect, perhaps the tale held a moral that had been beyond her comprehension. There had been a method to the madness that was not clear the first time around.

"For three days he kept me there, drugged with something. I slipped in and out of consciousness. For the first two and a half days as far as I could tell, he hypnotized me into a state of complete adoration. For the rest of the last day, he tore me apart until I was an unstable mess of nervous wreckage. He taught me the difference between someone who says what they believe and someone who does what they believe. He taught me the difference between a mask and the truth. His truth was darkness. He didn't hide it with a mask." She stopped speaking.


	3. Conclusion

"For three days he kept me there, drugged with something. I slipped in and out of consciousness. For the first two and a half days as far as I could tell, he hypnotized me into a state of complete adoration. For the rest of the last day, he tore me apart until I was an unstable mess of nervous wreckage. He taught me the difference between someone who says what they believe and someone who does what they believe. He taught me the difference between a mask and the truth. His truth was darkness. He didn't hide it with a mask." She stopped speaking.

Bruce's eyes asked her: "How did you…escape?" He was too tormented to speak aloud for fear his voice would betray him.

"He let me go. I woke up in my bedroom and it was three days later. My clothes were torn and stained with the clown's makeup. My knee still had the healing star. The most disturbing part was that when I went to take a shower in the bathroom, his card was on the mirror next to a picture of me, bound and gagged in the room. For some reason I was wearing his suit. I went to the police but they'd been kind of busy with something to do with Crane."

"The Joker has been caught."

"Again? How long this time? Two days? Three?"

"For good. He's been sent to Arkham. He won't be getting out this time."

"Oh sure. Like you know. He's desperate for chaos. He'll get out. He's just like radiation; he can pass through walls and infect those he gets close to."

They were silent and Bruce took in all that she had said. The poor woman's life was a misery and he had nothing but money to comfort her with. Tranquil already had money. What else could he do but wait and watch and listen? He was barely together himself.

"Don't pity me. I overcame it all. I don't blame him. His mind is demented. I pity you, Wayne, and you should pity yourself. You hide behind a mask and play it safe. The Joker takes his off and everyone loses their minds. No one can accept truth. The best part is that he's sane enough to mask it, if he wants to, but he sees like I see, now. Hiding is a lie. Lies perpetuate other lies. I don't want you to be a coward, Bruce. Break the chain."

"You have no idea what mask I hide behind."

"I know enough."

"I do admit that I hide quite a bit. I am sorry for that. I really feel that if you give me time, we really could be good for one another."

"Fair enough, Mr. Wayne. Would you break the chain?"

"Given time, perhaps."

"Time, time. How much do we really have? Dent proves that it's a 50-50 chance, as good as a coin flip. I will give you my precious time only because I am done hiding. I am done conforming to society. In your arms at least I will be given an excuse to let go."

"What are you saying, Quill? What mask do you hide behind?"

"I hide behind yours."

"You mean to say that you live in complete honesty with the world?"

"I mean to say that I have kid myself and others into believing that you and I are a serious thing and that you have given me your heart. From today onward I no longer accept that lie, but I will wait and see if one day it actually occurs. My soul is yours. I give you more than my heart for the Joker took that long ago and cut it into little pieces."


End file.
